(note: this needs further interpretation from fellow noders... to excuse the pun, I can't put my finger on it...)

November 29, 1999

I saw my right hand reaching out somewhere... I see a hand holding me by the wrist... I see my index and middle finger disappearing in a woman's mouth, ending with red lips. I see my fingers turning clockwise and counter-clockwise, gliding in and out of the woman's mouth. She was wearing a green and plaid suit. I didn't know why she is doing this, but I shouldn't just take my hand away from her for I "kinda" like it. She was a red-head, wearing the green suit, sucking on my fingers like nobody's business. She looks taller than me, but not older than me. I think she is what you kids call a "hottie." I didn't look at her eyes very much, but I guess she's trying to gauge my reaction if I'm going to melt in front of her. She was very quiet when she's playing with my fingers. I loved the silence, trying to hear everything. Okay, I did remember she was wearing a warm shade of red for her eye-shadow, darkening from the fair color of her face to the dark red hair. I didn't melt in front of her. I feel as though I'm in the college campus again, inside the history/theatre/TV & Radio building, right next to the elevator bank. I feel movement with my fingers, but not feelings that come from going in and out of a woman's mouth. In only feel the movement. Anyways, she stopped sucking, and she withdrew my fingers from her mouth. I swear, I am supposed to get off from this, but I am not. Why am I that turning into putty on her hands?

All I did afterwards is to suck on my fingers to see how it tastes like. I still didn't taste that much of saliva from that woman that I wanted to taste. I wished I know what made this woman do what she did with my fingers, but I can't put my finger on it (that same pun again). Then I waved bye-bye to her and she waved back, smiling. I walked away from her, but I turned around to see this red-headed woman in the green suit with the skirt, revealing a pair of legs covered in stockings. Then I left, never to see her again.

All I can think to myself now is "How the Hell did my brain create something like this? Why didn't I feel the saliva and the woman's tongue caressing my right index and middle fingers? Why am I not feeling what I wanted to feel out of this?" Is there anybody who can give me insight on this, and its meaning to my meaningless personal life?